Chapter 68 - A Clumsy Chunk of Metal

The Arenas in Aegis Academy were unlike anything Skyle had expected. This did not concern him unduly, but it was still a surprise. He had been expecting a grand structure with the same sweeping arches and immaculate stone carvings decorating its surface throughout.

Instead he found himself at a part of the academy he had never had cause to visit. In fact, most mages would rarely set foot upon this side of Aegis Academy. Dalian seemed almost as unfamiliar with the area as they crested a slight hill covered by neatly cropped green grass. Upon reaching the summit, a vast valley opened up below.

It was filled with all manner of contraptions and equipment, many of which Skyle was unfamiliar with. A few he could identify as exercise machines, with weights, ropes and other equipment to develop their bodies. A wide track ran all around the outer ring of the valley, upon which many students could be seen jogging.

A series of stages caught Skyle’s attention. These were square platforms cordoned by ropes or chains in some cases. A few figures could be seen sparring against each other within. Many used their fists and feet, but others were using all manner of weapons to strike their partners.

Dalian searched around for a moment, looking as though he were in a daze. Then he seemed to find what he was looking for, and led Skyle toward one of the few actual buildings that were visible.

Skyle and his guide received many strange looks from the students they passed. It was not surprising, as all of them were students of the warrior schools. The difference between the mage school students could not have been more stark. The boys were mostly all as tall as Dalian, with some even dwarfing the giant. Even the girls’ arms were lean with muscle, not a single ounce of fat visible upon their skin. Moreover, every student moved with the smooth grace and regular gait of fighters who had trained their bodies to the point where they had developed a natural sense of balance at all times.

Skyle reflected that these students would prove a far more challenging foe than mage students such as Dalian. It was no wonder that although mages were widely acknowledged as being far more powerful with the elements, they often relied upon the protection of elemental warriors against the threat of close quarter combat. Moreover, his father had taught Skyle that in a one-on-one situation, there was a distinct line drawn within the ranks of mages. Until they reached that point, they were generally weaker than their warrior counterparts in individual combat. This line usually came at around the high Adept or early Master ranks. Most mages, his father had noted, were blinded by their own pride and thought themselves invincible at the same level. This had been the downfall of many lesser mages.

Watching the a slender girl swinging a giant axe with an edge almost as long as her own torso and crushing a large wooden dummy in half with apparent ease, Skyle made a mental note that warriors from renowned academies were indeed different from elemental warriors in the world outside. The girl barely looked older than Skyle himself, yet he doubted he could wield such a massive weapon, let alone swing it with the speed and force she exhibited.

Ignoring the stares they received from the warrior students they passed, they finally arrived at their destination. It was a large building with the symbol of a sword, spear and axe laid atop each other. Stepping inside, they saw a large desk with an older student behind.

He had long, black hair tied back in a neat ponytail and looked to be at least eighteen or older. The hilt of a sword was very conspicuous protruding from behind his back. Upon his chest a three shield badge gleamed brightly under the light of an everlight lantern hanging from a nearby wall. They were slightly different, however. This older student’s badge was bronze in color, not silver, with brown stars inside. They were also full shields, unlike Dalian’s own which were only the hollow outlines of shields with blue stars inside. A bronze badge with brown stars indicated he was from the Earth Warrior School, and the three full shields placed him in the senior Adept class. If he was one of the lucky few, he would be graduating soon.

Only such advanced students would be trusted to man an important station like this. Skyle recognized this desk from the descriptions he had read in the Academy Manual. Upon the desk lay a massive tome bound in dark metal with a quill by its side.

“We’ve come to register for a duel,” Dalian said, somewhat breathlessly. It seemed like he knew this Adept student, at least by reputation if not by name.

The senior student looked up from his desk and smirked when he saw the two youths standing before him.

“What is this, a joke?” he chuckled, looking Skyle up and down like he was a three legged chicken. “Did Kelstrom put you kids up to this nonsense? I swear, his sense of humor gets worse and worse every semester.”

“Senior Roland, I don’t personally know senior Kelstrom and he has nothing to do with this,” Dalian called out.

Eyebrows flying up into his forehead, the young man looked at the mage student with a doubtful look.

“This isn’t funny, junior,” he said.

“We’re dead serious, Senior. Please register our duel,” Dalian repeated.

Thunderclouds began to gather in the older student’s brow.

“You’re a senior Initiate mage and this other kid’s aura is as dead as a lump of rock. Are you telling me you walked into the Hall of Combat to rudely top off a lousy rainy afternoon just so you could slaughter a talentless runt? All this, under my, Roland Hamonet’s watch?” the senior student growled.

Dalian’s mouth worked for an answer, but couldn’t find one.

“Get out of here before I lose my temper, kids. Be grateful I don’t kick you back to whatever freakshow you came from. The Hall of Combat and the arena duels are no laughing matter,” Roland muttered, moving his gaze back onto the tome.

Skyle stepped in, not having expected Dalian to be quite so incompetent or timid. Was this Roland famous or something?

“Adept Hamonet, I must formally request that you fulfill your duties as the Recorder of the Tome of Rituals and register our duel as prescribed under the Academy’s regulations, article XVI, section four, numerals one, three and five. Our duel will take place immediately, and the stakes will be Initiate Dalian’s class badge and my sister, Kassandra Farrow’s class badge. She will honor the bet.”

Surprise lit up Roland’s eyes for a moment at the mention of his sister’s name. Understanding seemed to slowly dawn in his face. Roland’s gaze grew serious as he squinted at Skyle like he was looking at a strange sort of beast.

“To start with, you lack even the most basic decorum to address me properly as senior, let alone to call me by my surname,” Roland began.

“With all due respect, Adept Hamonet, I’m not a student of Aegis Academy, and thus there is no formal senior to junior relationship to consider,” Skyle noted.

“Then all the less reason for me to bother with your request. You’re just an outsider, boy, and I have no obligation to comply with any of your demands,” Roland said nonplussed, as though he had been expecting Skyle’s reply. His expression was no longer hostile, however. Instead, there was curiosity in his eyes.

“According to standard academy regulations, article XVI, section-” Skyle began once again.

“Shove your regulations up your arse, smarty mouth,” Roland waved his hand, cutting in. “This is the hallowed Hall of Combat, a shrine to the true warrior spirit burning under the elemental spirits’ watchful eyes. As for your rules and regulations, I say once again, so what? At worst, I’ll just challenge you and seek resolution by combat. What say you to that, little runt?”

Skyle sensed that he was being tested, and though he did not know why, he had to go through the motions. He could tell from this senior student’s attitude that a logical approach would not work best in this situation.

Helplessly, Skyle dug deep into his chest, searching for the smoldering coals of fury which he had doused with cold logic before. With startling ease, Skyle’s face twisted into a grim visage of barely repressed fury as he spat out with a clenched jaw.

“This sick son of a whore butchered defenseless cats and planted the bloody pieces inside my little sister’s matrix lab, just because he couldn’t stomach the idea that an innocent little girl could be more talented than he was. I mean to face him in single combat and snatch his academy badge from the crushed bones of his hand and kick this human refuse from the ranks of Aegis Academy with my own bootheel. Senior.”

Roland grin was one of genuine delight as he studied Skyle for a moment. Then he switched his gaze on to Dalian.

“Is this true, Initiate?” He asked in even tones.

“Senior, this rat is besmirching my good name. He has no proof!” Dalian spurted.

“I didn’t ask about proof. I said, is this true? You should know who I am, and how I deal with those who lie to me,” Roland repeated, his gaze growing colder.

“Uh, Senior. Perhaps you, um, know my older cousin. He’s Adept Hawthorn, he ought to be in the same class-”

“I asked you a question, and I’m still waiting for an answer, Initiate.” The tone didn’t change, but a steely light entered Roland’s eyes as he stared Dalian down.

“I- I- Senior, my friends - they might have played some pranks of ill taste with the younger students of my class,” Dalian panted, all color draining from his face as his panicked eyes moved to the sword on Roland’s back.

Skyle was surprised by Dalian’s attitude, and surmised that Roland must have an impressive reputation to be able to drag out the truth from the young noble’s reluctant lips.

“I see. Well, it is really none of my business whether a dozen cats are sliced up and served for some silly brats’ amusement, or if a talentless freak wishes to offend House Westeria from Darthmoor City for his petty revenge,” Roland said in an indifferent tone, but Skyle didn’t miss the look the Adept threw his way.

Though he didn’t know why Roland would go out of his way to try to warn Skyle, it didn’t change his mind at all.

Roland must have read as much from his eyes, and strangely that produced a smile on the Adept’s lips. He turned to Dalian next.

“Initiate, you agree to this duel and place your class badge as the stake of your own free will?”

Dalian hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

Roland chuckled humorlessly as he took up his quill and recorded a new entry upon the tome under his hands.

“Sign here and here. Oh, and remember, the arena’s spell matrix monitors your pulse and breathing as safeguards against life-threatening wounds. It will instantly declare a winner in case a combatant clearly calls out his surrender or is otherwise unable to continue fighting.”

Skyle didn’t miss the hidden meaning behind this revelation, and once again wondered why Roland would try to aid him. Not one to protest when offered such valuable advice, Skyle nodded imperceptibly as he revised his plan.

After both Dalian and Skyle signed their names, Roland handed each one of them a token and flicked his head towards the large doors at his back.

“At the Initiate stage arena, only academy approved-weapons and armor are allowed. All outside equipment is forbidden. Take your time to arm yourselves. When you’re ready, take this token with you into the arena outside. The matrix barrier will allow you through, though it will automatically kick you out after one hour of combat.”

Dalian’s expression turned ugly when he found out he couldn’t use his own weapons. It seemed as though it was his first time using the arena. It didn’t come as a huge surprise to Skyle. He guessed most mages looked down upon actual combat and focused entirely upon their magical studies. Such a foolish attitude would likely last until they reached the Adept stage. That was when both schools would move into the same area and the inter-school competitions against combat warriors would open. Only then would they realize just how poorly equipped they were to deal with fifteen pounds of element-infused steel crashing upon their heads.

Such foolish arrogance would serve Skyle well today.

Skyle ignored Dalian now that the duel had been recorded and sealed. He passed through the doorway Roland had indicated, and walked into a hall that would have been Reikard’s dream come true.

Weapons of all shapes and sizes hung upon the walls, racks and display cases. Swords ranged from two-handed bastard swords with blades as wide as Skyle’s shoulders, to slender rapiers with plain, if well crafted basket hilts. Razor sharp daggers ranging from triangular blades to single-edged, serrated knives glittered cooly under the golden glow of several everlight lanterns hung throughout.

Taking advantage of the fact that Dalian had still not entered the spacious hall, Skyle immediately moved towards a corner of the room where bows and crossbows of all kinds hung from the walls. He quickly identified a composite bow that would suit the length of his arms. Picking it up, he tugged at the bowstring and felt that he should barely be able to use about eighty five percent of its draw. That would be enough.

He quickly placed the bow back upon its perch, then moved to the area where the two-handed swords were displayed. Skyle had just selected a saber with a curved blade nearly as long as his own height, when Dalian walked into the room with slow, tentative steps.

Skyle pretended not to see him as he gripped the saber in a two-handed grip and swung the blade in a wide circle around himself. As expected, the single edge was completely blunted. However, the sheer speed of his slash produced an impressive whooshing sound. Skyle didn’t stop after he completed the spin, instead going through the motions of one of the few sword techniques he knew.

After all, Kendric Farrow had not taught his son much about swords at all. He only made his son repeat a few basic stances and simple moves as a warm up every day before moving on to other, far more challenging subjects. Thus, in his son’s mind swords were a rather simple, clumsy chunk of metal that slapped your leg whenever you tried to run. At best, it was a last minute resort when all else fails.

Kendric had never dissuaded his son of such a notion. If anything, he seemed to encourage it. He would drill Skyle only on a few basic stances. He would have Skyle repeat these same strokes over and over again, until his son’s whole body was aching and his clothes were soaked in sweat. The whole time, Skyle would curse under his breath as to why he had to repeat these dumb, simple moves with this damn clumsy chunk of metal every single day.

Still, they were all he knew. So, Skyle decided to use the one full stance among the few he had been taught which he thought could maneuver the unwieldy sword in his hands without a significant risk of stumbling and impaling himself. However, as he went through the familiar motions, he was deeply surprised.

Under the singular focus that he now possessed, the same clumsy sword strokes that had been drilled into his body day after day until they became mere reflex seemed to evolve into something far greater than the sum of its parts. The enhanced sense of awareness that had come from shedding his emotions and entering this mysterious state brought unexpected gains.

Skyle felt as though each distinct muscle of his body was a separate organ. His senses sank through his flesh and into even the most remote corner of his body. Like his hands or feet, Skyle was possessed of an uncanny awareness of each muscle and tendon’s current state. He could effortlessly issue a command to each individual fiber and felt blindly certain that it would obey.

At first, Skyle had been planning to put up a hollow, if convincing show in front of the more inexperienced Initiate mage. At this moment, however, Skyle completely ignored such plans. Aware that the mysterious state he found himself immersed in was anything but normal and was a rare opportunity that should not be missed, Skyle directed every last iota of his attention into this newfound discovery.

As he flowed through each simple motion, he tried to envision the way his own father had moved when he displayed the move. Instantly, he found dozens of discrepancies. His toes were turned the wrong way. His fingers were using the wrong grip. His shoulders were set too far apart. His back was hunched over when it should be straight.

The mistakes were simply too many to count. Had he been capable of the emotion, he would have been painfully ashamed of both his own incompetence, and his previous disdain for the moves he had ignorantly dismissed as simple warm up exercises.

As Skyle continued to refine each movement of his body and each slash of the sword, he felt his own mind undergoing an inexplicable change. The closer he drew to the mental image of his father’s fierce, yet elegant sword strokes, Skyle’s own mind was being cut by the razor sharp edges of the blossoming sword intent. It shed all unnecessary thoughts and wasteful motion, until slowly a far more compact version of his former self emerged.

His will now resembled the sword he held in his hands, and its fierce fighting spirit was as sharp as any sword he had ever beheld. Skyle pursued this feeling to its climax, and only heard the shocked gasp coming from behind his back after he completed his final slashing blow.

Fat beads of sweat rolled down his face as Skyle knelt on the ground. His breating came in harsh, uneven gasps. Every muscle in his body screamed in agony, totally spent as though he had just run down an entire mountain. His arms shook as the tip of the sword in his hands wavered in the air just below his waist.

A slow, clapping sound echoed from the walls of the hall. Droplets of sweat sprayed into the air as Skyle swiftly spun his head around.

At the doorway stood Dalian, the blood completely drained from his face and his mouth stretched open in a terrified, disbelieving gape. Behind him stood Roland, his hands still clapping as he regarded Skyle with an intense light. The senior Adept’s face was one of appreciation, but Skyle felt there was a barely disguised hunger lurking just beneath the pleasant smile.

“Impressive. Very impressive indeed. I don’t recognize the sword kata, however. Very unorthodox. I can see some of Weimer and Hershell in it, but some of the variations are incredibly ingenious and elegant. It’s fascinating. Which master taught you?” His words were unnaturally slow and measured, as though he were forcing himself to remain calm. The blazing fire in his eyes only confirmed this suspicion.

Skyle shook his head. “No master, just a few moves I picked up.”

Roland’s eyebrows flew up. “Well, if that’s what you casually pick up, I’d really like to see what your master actually has taught you.”

Skyle shrugged his shoulders, then winced as he lowered his sword and stood upright. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest.

“They were just a few harmless moves. Nothing out of this world,” Skyle commented, downplaying it. He did not wish for his father’s identity to become an issue before he himself could find out the truth.

Roland openly laughed at that. “Tell that to the weapons rack behind you. What did the poor ironwood stand do to you? If that’s what you call harmless, I pity the poor bastard you actually try to hurt.”

Skyle tilted his head back in the direction of the sword stand. It seemed perfectly fine, though Skyle did recall that he had decided to test the might of his father’s sword moves. In that final slash, he distinctly remembered brushing the tip of his sword against the wooden rack.

He hadn’t expected to actually cause any damage. It was made of ironwood, which was notorious for being incredibly tough and being able to chip steel when struck. Though he had hoped for at least a scratch, the surface lay completely unblemished.

Skyle shook his head. He thought his blow had struck true, but there had been remarkably little feedback from the sword. Maybe he had been wrong and missed completely.

Roland chuckled at Skyle’s confused expression as he walked past him and pushed a finger against one side of the wooden rack. He barely seemed to apply any pressure at all, but one of the legs on the sword stand groaned loudly and folded completely upon itself. It sent the whole thing crashing to the floor with a resounding clang. Swords of all shapes clattered as they rolled on the ground.

Skyle thought he heard a whimpering sound from behind his shoulder, but he couldn’t be bothered to turn around at this moment. Fascinated, he peered in closer and noticed that one of the weapon rack’s legs had been completely cut through. The edges of the cut were so clean, it reminded him of Leon’s sword. Although the severed leg was only around a quarter of an inch in thickness, this was ironwood! If it weren’t so weak to humidity, it could easily be used as a weapon, it was so hard and sturdy.

Roland smirked at Skyle’s expression.

“You’re a really interesting fellow, Skyle Farrow.”

Skyle looked up with a start, then realized the Adept student must have read his signature on the duel agreement.

He didn’t bother replying. He knew he could find no easy explanation for this. He firmly decided that he needed to find out his father’s true identity as soon as possible. That, and he must devote more of his time in learning sword techniques from him.

Roland didn’t seem bothered by Skyle’s silence at all. “It’s been a long time since someone has piqued my curiosity, Skyle Farrow. I expect we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the future.”

“I doubt it,” Skyle noted flatly.

“We shall see, casual blademaster-in-training,” Roland grinned toothily.

Before Skyle could ask what he meant, Roland turned around and headed toward the room’s exit.

As he walked past Dalian, he paused briefly and flicked a glance at his pale, waxy complexion.

“Good luck, Initiate Dalian,” Roland smirked. “You will most definitely need it.”

Then he walked out of the room with an easy, relaxed gait, ignoring the shaky moan his words had elicited from his academy junior.

After all, he already seemed to know the results of this duel.

For despite all outward appearances, Roland Hamonet struck Skyle like a serious man who valued his time. He had no attention to spare on a washed out reject.

Skyle nodded to himself and carefully sheathed the sword in his hands. Then he moved toward the corner of the room he had visited earlier. There, he casually picked up the bow he had selected beforehand with hardly a second look. He also picked up a quiver with arrows in passing. As expected, the arrowheads were all blunted.

Perfect.

All preparations done, he moved to stand before Dalian.

The hulking senior Initiate mage student hadn’t moved at all throughout this whole affair.

“I’m ready. I’ll see you at the arena,” Skyle stated simply, then walked out.

He had no time to waste on washouts either, after all.